3. Milo

Chapter 3

Milo

“Holy cow. Merry Christmas to me.” I blink back at my phone screen. I couldn’t help myself from looking at my emails before exiting my car after the shopping trip with Rory. This is the biggest order I’ve gotten in a long time. Maybe even my biggest print order ever. Probably is. I can’t hold back and call Rory as I push my door open. “Uh, so… I have a new neighbor.” I gather everything I just splurged on from the truck and head to the door of the apartment building.

“Oh, yay! Have you met them?”

“No, not yet, but they placed a huge print order from my website while we were shopping. With hand delivery.” I open the door. “It’s just so weird. Right?”

“Is it sexy flower Daddy? Please be sexy flower Daddy!” I can practically hear Rory bouncing on his feet.

“Someone named Isadora placed the order.” I push back the disappointment. The dream was fun while it lasted, but if Isadora likes my art, I know we’ll get along. Even if they aren’t sexy flower Daddy.

“Present.” Someone singsongs down the hall, startling me.

“Who was that?” Rory whispers.

“I’m guessing Isadora,” I whisper back as I walk down the hall with a smile on my face.

I have to look up at the person standing in front of the door across from mine. Their ponytail adds a lot of height to someone already much taller than me. But so many people are much taller than me. They’re in skinny jeans and platform sneakers. No jewelry to speak of, but there are tan lines where there should be rings and either a bracelet or a watch. They frantically knock on the door behind them while looking me over.

“Clay, get your ass out here!” They give me a grin and hold out a hand. “I’m Isadora, but everyone calls me Izzy. She/her.” She moves a coat panel to reveal a pronouns button with the trans flag on her chest.

“Milo, he/him. Nice to meet you. That apartment has been empty for a few months. And thank you for your?—”

My neighbor’s door opens and I have to look up and up. None other than the flower god himself stands in front of me. Clayton. THE Clayton. FlowerClayton. Flower Daddy. I can’t speak. Can’t even blink.

“It’s you,” he says in that yummy deep rumble of a voice at the same time I whisper the same thing.

“Me?” I squeak.

Izzy cackles and pushes Clayton towards me. “Clay, baby, I think your prints are here. That was fast!”

I blink as I understand her words. “Oh, no. I just saw the order. I live here.” I wave to my apartment door.

Her grin goes wide. “How fortuitous Clay’s cute crush is his new neighbor.”

“Crush?” I blink up at Clayton, his cheeks go pink. “Cute?”

“Uhm, yeah,” Clayton says as he scratches the back of his neck. There’s a small, lopsided smile on his lips. Flower Daddy has a crush on me ?

Rory squeals in my ear. “Oh, my god MyMy, fate!” Rory practically screams in my ear.

I snort. “Fate doesn’t exist, Rory.”

“Who is Rory?” Izzy asks, as she cocks her head.

“Sorry, phone.” I wave to my head and take out the earpiece. “Bye, Rory.”

“Wait! Wait!”

I end the call, silently promising to tell him what happens next. I lick my lips and take a step forward with my hand out to Clayton.

Izzy thumbs towards Clayton as she walks backwards to the building door. “I should… let you two get to know each other. The art prints all go to him. See ya.” She turns and sprints out the door, leaving me alone with flower Daddy.

“Sorry ‘bout her. She gets carried away. I’m Clayton, go by Clay. He/him.” Clay swipes a hand through his sweat soaked auburn hair and offers it to me before he grimaces and pulls back. “Ew, sorry.”

“She seems fun, though. Little chaotic.”

“That’s Izzy.” Clay chuckles and I’m sure I’m red as Rudolph’s nose.

“I’m Milo.”

“I’m honored to meet you, Milo.” His gaze drops to the bags in my hand. The bags with coloring books and stuffies. I turn to hide the contents and unlock my door.

“Likewise. I actually have all my art prints here if you wanna come in. I’ll pull the ones Izzy ordered for you. I can even help hang them if you want.” Why Milo, why? You sound so desperate.

“Are you sure? Izzy’ll help sometime. I don’t want to?—”

“I’ve had a mentally draining day and you—” I wave around him. “Are the highlight. Never in a million years would I have guessed my celebrity crush would be my new neighbor.” Just tell him everything why don’t you?

“You have a crush on me?” Clay asks.

“Since the moment I found your Instagram.” My cheeks are on fire.

“Same.” Clay chuckles and swipes his hand through his hair again. “When you messaged me a couple months ago, I ended up going through all your posts with my secret profile. You stood out from everyone else. Shit, I sound like a serial killer, don’t I?” He takes a few steps back and I mourn the loss of his heat. At least I imagine it radiated from him.

I tip my head, trying to remember our first conversation. “I messaged you a silly pirate joke after that short history lesson on pirates.” And holy hell, the bouquet he created. So pretty!

“Exactly. I usually get messages like…” He pulls a face. “Something about plundering holes. So much hole plundering from that damn video. Which sure, with the right person, but not with someone that doesn’t know what a boundary is.”

I squint one eye and hook my pointer finger. “Argh, flower Daddy won’t you plunder me hole for orgasmic pleasure. Something like that?”

“Exactly like that.” I swear Clay’s eyes twinkle as he chuckles.

“Yeah, ew. Totally gross. I tend to get creepy messages asking me to draw them like my French girls. I’m like… why are people still quoting the Titanic movie?”

We’re still just standing in my doorway, but the conversation flows. Why is it so easy to talk to Clay?

Clay rolls up his sleeves, and it takes everything in me not to drool. Forearm porn is my catnip. Even if it’s just a rolled up Henley. “Why was your day draining?”

“I had a lot of rejections lately and it just got to me.” But with the hottest neighbor ever, I think I can manage. Maybe we’ll be on the same schedule and I’ll get to see him on my way to the shop. I open my door and silently thank myself for always cleaning up after myself. Jacob raised me after our parents died in a car crash when I was ten and he was twenty. I never wanted to be a burden to him, so I always cleaned up after myself and I still keep the habit. “Come on in. If you haven’t eaten, I’ll make us something.”

Clay looks around, and I try to keep from fidgeting. “It’s not much, but I love this place.”

“I can tell. There’s a lot of good energy here.”

I nod. “I’ve only been here about a year, but it’s home. Food?”

“Me and Izzy had pizza.”

My stomach decides to sing the song of the whales right this instant.

“One sec.” Clay leaves and for whatever reason, my heart aches for it. I like him here in my space, even if we’ve only just met. While he’s gone, I kick off my shoes and put my bags in my bedroom. By the time I’m back in the living room, he’s standing at the door holding a pizza box. “If you like pepperoni, I’m happy to share the rest with you. I could eat again.”

I’m not worthy of the smile he gives me.

“Pepperoni is my favorite.” I nod towards the kitchen, where he follows me. I wave at the table. “Have a seat.” I grab a couple of plates and set them on my small table, then grab some bottled water. I’m about to have dinner with flower Daddy!